The dissenters waited upon Lord Thurlow by appointment, to request his vote for the repeal of the test act. After he had heard their sentiments in a long harangue, with more than his ordinary patience, when the speech was concluded, he thus addressed them:—“Gentlemen, you have requested me to vote for the repeal of the test act. I shall not vote for it. I do not care whether your religion or mine has the ascendancy, or whether any religion or none; but as I know when you were uppermost, you kept us down; so now that we are uppermost, we will, by the help of God, keep you where you are.”

SHERIDAN AND HIS SON.

Sheridan took his son one day to task upon his celibacy, and strongly urged that he should take a wife. “Very well, father,” answered Tom, “whose wife shall I take?”

THE BELLOWS-BLOWER.

In a cathedral, one day after service, the bellows-blower said to the organist, “I think we have done very well to-day.” “We!” said the organist, in no small surprise at the impudence of his menial, “how can you pretend to have any merit in the performance? Never let me hear you say such a thing again.” The man said nothing more at the time, but when they were next playing, he suddenly intermitted in his task of inflating the organ. The organist rose in wrath to order him to proceed, when the fellow thrusting his head out from behind the curtain, asked slily, “Shall it be we then?”

A FAMILY HUNG UP.

A lady, who, by virtue of an immense fortune, acquired by her father in the profession of a pawnbroker, had married a poor nobleman, was shewing her new and elegantly furnished house to George Selwyn. Having led him from room to room, and displayed the whole of her rhetoric and taste, she at last threw open a pair of large folding doors that led into the grand saloon, which was superbly furnished, but contained no pictures. “Here, Mr. Selwyn,” said she, “I intend to hang up all my family.” “I thought,” replied George, “your ladyship might have spared yourself that trouble; for I always understood they were hung up long ago.”

LORD KENYON.

A friend having pointed out to Sheridan, that Lord Kenyon had fallen asleep at the first representation of Pizarro, and that, too, in the midst of Rollo’s fine speech to the Peruvian soldiers, the dramatist felt rather mortified; but, instantly recovering his usual good humour, he said, “Ah poor man! let him sleep! he thinks he is on the bench.”

A MATCH FOR SHERIDAN.